Page 15 of Intense
I made myself her enemy without so much as opening my mouth the day I joined the cardiology department.
And every day since, I’ve studied her.
She is my favorite patient to assess.
When she bites her lip, my eyes zone in there.
There’s a fine line between lust and hate.
And we dance it like it’s second nature.
I allow her to despise me, because it keeps us both sharp. Keeps her at my level.
It’s a dance I want to keep doing.
I pull out the black marker from my pocket with a grin.
“Really? Now?” she snaps.
“You know damn well it’s time.” I hand her the marker.
She huffs and stomps over to the whiteboard.
Week four hundred and eight.
Total tally: Dr. Quinn, three hundred. Dr. Miller, one hundred and seven.
She puts a line under this week’s chart. Make it three hundred and one.
I can feel the anger rolling off her in waves. It’s silly really, a tally chart that I completely fix every week. It can be something as mundane as a decent joke or as raw as bringing someone back from the dead. These lines on that board mean nothing and everything.
“Good work, Dr. Miller,” I tease.
I can’t help it. Any opportunity I get to rile her up, I take it. It’s a habit now. Even after she flawlessly saved my brother’s life, I still can’t help it.
If I wasn’t who I am, I would have let her win that entire leaderboard for the rest of our careers for giving me Conan back. I can never really thank her enough for that.
I knew making that call to have her do the surgery was a bold move. I thought I’d never live it down.
Yet, much to my shock, she doesn’t throw that one in my face too often. Maybe that is her limit with me. She’s the only one who has seen me almost fall apart.
I think she knew. And chose to stay silent. As if she likes this power play between us. Perhaps she thrives in it as much as I do.
Maybe we need it to survive here.
I’ve spent most of my life pushing people away.
Yet with Stephanie, I push and I push, and she never moves out of my orbit.
She stands her ground.
Maybe that’s why I gravitate to her.
“I really don’t like you,” she says, almost sweetly, as she tosses the marker at my chest.
I catch it with a smirk.
“Really? I had no idea,” I say, sarcastically.
